


It's A Natural

by annie_reckson



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Boyz II Men Brings Everyone Together, F/F, Femslash, Femslash February, First Kiss, Pining
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-02-05
Updated: 2015-02-05
Packaged: 2018-03-10 16:07:00
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,308
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3296468
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/annie_reckson/pseuds/annie_reckson
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Lydia Martin is not stupid.</p><p>This is accepted knowledge, even by people who are only vaguely aware of who she is without really knowing her. She had a very successful tenure as Class President all three years of middle school, took first prize at every Science Fair she’d ever entered, and knows that she’s an absolute shoe-in for valedictorian next year. These are all indisputable facts.</p><p>But if people think she doesn’t know what they say about her, then they’re the stupid ones. She’s very aware that more than one person has questioned why she spent so much time on the arm of Stereotypical High School Douchecanoe, Jackson Whittemore. Particularly people whose names rhyme with “Biles”. But that is because there are a lot of things in the world that they don’t quite understand.</p>
            </blockquote>





	It's A Natural

**Author's Note:**

> So this is my little addition to Femslash February
> 
> Because the world needs more femslash (and lots more Allydia!)

Lydia Martin is not stupid.

This is accepted knowledge, even by people who are only vaguely aware of who she is without really knowing her. She had a very successful tenure as Class President all three years of middle school, took first prize at every Science Fair she’d ever entered, and knows that she’s an absolute shoe-in for valedictorian next year. These are all indisputable facts.

But if people think she doesn’t know what they say about her, then they’re the stupid ones. She’s very aware that more than one person has questioned why she spent so much time on the arm of Stereotypical High School Douchecanoe, Jackson Whittemore. Particularly people whose names rhyme with “Biles”. But that is because there are a lot of things in the world that they don’t quite understand.

For instance, psychological studies show that the majority of people experience some sort of “sexual awareness”  - not specifically being aware that sex exists, but figuring out what they like and who they like, mostly - in their teenage years, while it might take other people as late as the college years to figure themselves out. Of course, depending on sociological issues present, some people find themselves in their forties or fifties before realizing that they’re really attracted to the same gender, or those without gender, or that they prefer being asexual.

Lydia managed to have it all figured out by the time she was eight, easily enough. The cute girl that sat next to her in third grade had invited Lydia over to her house after school; it made sense since both Lydia’s parents were still working and she’d be home alone otherwise. Cynthia - that was the girl’s name - had graciously dragged out all of the crayons she owned to share with Lydia, even the metallic ones and the glittery ones. Both of which had been truly essential for the fairy machine Lydia was working on (she had spent the better part of the afternoon deciding the input components, finally deciding on butterfly wings, discarded doll pieces, and LOTS of glitter; the machine itself was a work of art).

At some point in the afternoon, Cynthia’s mom brought them juice boxes and Cynthia had given Lydia a shy smile over hers and Lydia...felt weird about it. A strange stirring in her gut that she hadn’t ever felt before.

Granted, it had taken her a few days to figure out what that feeling exactly was, but one afternoon at lunch everything clicked when she heard some of the other girls in class talking about one of the boys that sat near them. All Lydia had noticed about him was that he had floppy hair and a crooked jaw, but apparently there was something about this boy that allotted him the description of “dreamy”. Hyperbolic adjectives aside, their discussion made Lydia realize that the floaty way they talked about (Scott? Was that his name?) was the way she wanted to talk about Cynthia. And, come to think of it, Laurie, another girl with bouncy, dark curls that was a grade above her but rode her school bus.

However, Lydia, as stated before, is not stupid. Even at the age of eight, she recognized the lack of women walking around together in the small town of Beacon Hills. Well, unless it was for a "buddy" system and she honestly felt like her feelings went deeper than "buddies".  Not to mention that Lydia, even at the age of eight, had already started formulating her plan of action. The plan that would assuredly gain her admission at MIT. Which would guarantee a lucrative position in her field and give her the ability to focus on becoming the youngest person to win the Field’s Medal.

If nothing else, her father had instilled in her the importance of a good plan. And that plan was more important than anything else. Too important to risk the scrutiny of being perceived as something different in a small town. Being smarter than everyone else was something to be proud of, something that was considered a positive trait. And she didn’t want to be considered an outlier in any other regard. Best to draw attention to herself in only perceived positive ways.

So, Lydia said nothing. As she got older, she discovered that boys were fun to play around with for a night, or sometimes two, but never more than that. Flings were excusable, but a relationship with one of them was definitely out of the question. They were all nice enough, but not at all what she really wanted.

So where did Jackson come in? He was handy because of his popular status, his position as captain of the lacrosse team, and his dashing good looks. His personality was clearly lacking, but, thanks in part to her parents, Lydia had become very good at tuning people out. The important thing was that one look at him and Lydia had known they’d look good together; she could string him along and use him to guarantee her the Prom Queen title. Probably even a year ahead of schedule. And within five minutes of talking to him, she could already tell that he was dense as he was disposable. Perfect.

She would tell herself that high school was only practice anyway. All she had to do was stay the course, get out of Beacon Hills, California and into Cambridge, Massachusetts, and finally feel free enough to do whatever, or whoever, she wanted. Then everything would be as it should be.

The plan was working flawlessly, until Allison Argent showed up. With her perfect hair and gorgeous eyes and radiant smile; and those were just the first impressions. Lydia found herself operating on autopilot, probably because she wasn't thinking clearly, and before she even realized what she’d done, they’d somehow forged a friendship, which began to entail spending as much time together as possible.

For the first time, Lydia was stuck between not wanting to put a wrench in a plan she’d put so much meticulous effort into and wanting to be around Allison Argent as much as she could. So, she made sure to pull out all the stops to keep this as platonic as possible: they went on loads of double dates, Lydia only spoke of herself in the most vapid terms possible, made sure that a majority of their conversations were about boys, and even went as far as hitting on Allison’s dad. (which, ew. Not that there was anything wrong with Chris Argent, but Lydia had always been uncomfortable with the way media and society seemed to want to constantly push together young women and older men).

Despite how much her efforts pained her at times - the urge to reach out and grasp Allison was oftentimes difficult to shove down - success was once again in Lydia’s grasp. In Allison’s eyes, Lydia was only her best friend, so her closeted bisexuality remained closeted. Just two short, glorious years until she could spring free of this place and maybe convince Allison to flee with her; because everyone knows that just because a crush is shoved back to the deepest part of your brain, doesn’t make it disappear. It only makes it harder when their floppy-haired boyfriend does something stupid and you can’t really comfort your best friend the way you’d really prefer to do. Such are the struggles of the career-minded woman, as Lydia would oft remind herself.

Fast-forward past an attack by a crazed werewolf (like, seriously, when were older men going to leave her alone), some time spent wandering naked in the woods, a few weeks that she’s honestly lost track of (thanks again, _Peter Hale_ ), a lizard monster, then said lizard monster turning into a werewolf, and Lydia suddenly finds herself in a strange situation.

Jackson is leaving. He’s said as much; leaving the country as soon as Derek gives him the quick lowdown (whatever that entails) on how to exist as a supernatural being without mauling people. In a way, for Lydia, that’s a bit of a relief as Jackson was starting to become more of a handful than she was willing to deal with, meticulous plan or not. So now she can go back to being flippant, to the novelty of a new boy anytime she wants one. Except, she doesn’t really want one.

The reason being that, Allison’s been gone ever since the whole incident went down. Apparently the loss of her mother and breakdown of her grandfather had caused her and her father to just pack up and leave for France. Supposedly it was just for the summer, but they sold their house and everything. Lydia forced herself to keep in touch with her over Skype as much as possible - despite how much it twisted something in her that she could see Allison but not touch her or be anywhere in her vicinity - and Allison insisted that the plan was to eventually return to Beacon Hills, but Lydia still worried.

Sometimes old adages are true and that’s always when it hits you the hardest. Because Allison being so far away for so long gave Lydia not much else to do besides realize just how much the quixotic brunette really mattered to her, with her infectious laugh and quirky smile and loyalty that was fierce to the point of being scary. Allison Argent is a storm masquerading as a daydream and Lydia realizes that she's honestly tired of trying to fight against it.

So when Allison finally does come back, when she sends a smiling selfie to Lydia’s phone that shows her throwing a peace sign right next to the wooden “Welcome to Beacon Hills” sign, Lydia formulates a new plan. If there’s something she’s learned in the past year, it’s that sometimes you have to stop playing it safe. Sometimes you have to trust that the lizard monster isn’t going to eat you. And sometimes you have to take what you want.

How exactly Lydia talks Allison into going to the “group” outing she’s not sure. What’s important is that Allison’s sitting in her passenger seat and smiling and laughing and it’s so beautiful that Lydia can physically feel her chest ache. Allison keeps asking questions about their “double date” and Lydia keeps deflecting because she’s not sure she can bring herself to tell Allison that the two people they’re meeting are Danny and his newest boytoy.

Allison, though, isn’t easily deterred. Definitely a product of realizing that most everyone you love has spent a majority of your life lying to you about basically every aspect of your life. As a last-ditch effort, Lydia turns on the radio for a distraction. It’s still on the local NPR station from when Lydia was running errands earlier, so Lydia hurriedly changes it to the next pre-programmed station. Which just happens to be a Top 40 station - a holdover from when the car belonged to her mother - that also happens to be having a 90’s Throwback Weekend.

As soon as Allison realizes what song is playing, Lydia can see her attention shift as she starts singing along. Lydia recognizes it, too, it’s a sappy Boyz II Men song, and she can’t help but roll her eyes and join in as the song builds to the bridge. She can’t help it if she knows the words, it may be a sappy song, but it’s still Boyz II Men.

She squeaks a little when Allison grasps her hand and belts out the bridge, “ _Will you love me again like you loved me before? This time I want you to love me much more!_ ”

Lydia regains her composure in time to sing along, “ _This time instead, just go to my bed! And baby just don’t let me go-o-o!_ ”

As the chorus starts, Lydia knows that her mouth is moving along, but her brain couldn’t be further from paying attention. It’s not because she doesn’t want to be here, right now, with Allison, but rather because this is the first time she’s actually paid attention to the lyrics of this song. And they make her painfully aware of how much she wants to say those words to Allison, how much she would love to explain to Allison that they really could belong together. Then she outwardly winces at how treacly that sounds.

She’s so caught up in her own thoughts that she does a double take once the chorus ends because the next spoken verse starts and Allison continues to sing along, only her voice goes much deeper to match the tone of the singer. Sure, it’s not an exact match, but it’s pretty damn close. And Allison is looking right at her as she speaks it.

“ _-You just don't understand how much I love you do you? I'm here for you. I'm not out to go out and cheat on you all night. Just like you did, baby, but that's all right. Hey, I love you anyway-_ ”

Lydia can’t breathe. Her mouth is gaping like a fish and she’s not even sure what her facial expression looks like right now. She’s hoping that she’s not projecting “terrified”, even though her heart feels like its about to pound out of her chest. And she doesn’t care if Allison’s just saying it because it happens to be the lyrics, because the way Allison is looking at her and the words that are coming out of her mouth are all Lydia’s wanted for the past year. Just for the moment, she tries to convince herself that this is real, place this memory in a firm spot in her mind. That way even if tonight goes horribly wrong, she’ll still have something.

But Allison keeps going, like her words aren’t causing metaphorical butterflies to go into a frenzy in Lydia’s gut, “ _Yes I feel pain too, baby, please..._ ”

The music swells to the chorus again, Allison bursts out laughing and it’s the most beautiful thing Lydia has ever seen. She’s ashamed to say that she’s forgotten how amazing Allison looks when she’s laughing. Not to mention how infectious her laughter can be. It doesn’t take much for Lydia to start giggling along with her, and soon tears are forming in her eyes as she pulls to a stop at a red light.

Allison leans her head back and sighs warmly, “Ah, that was one of my favorite songs growing up. Aunt Kate would always sing it with me when she visited...It’s so hard to believe that she...” She raises her eyebrows and sets her mouth in a thin line.”

Lydia frowns, she’s not about to let anything ruin the mood, “Well,” She cocks her head and purses her lips, “That was awfully nice of her to let you do the final verse - it is the most fun after all - y’know, sociopath or not.”

Her flippancy seems to work, because Allison is smiling and laughing again as the Boyz finish their song with one last chorus in acapella. Suddenly, the moment feels right and perfect as their eyes lock together again, and Lydia decides to just go for it and starts to lean forward. Allison smiles, her dimples full on display, and arches an eyebrow before tilting her head forward and Lydia wants to pump her fist in the air because this is going in just the way she’d wanted and she’s inches - centimeters, really - away from finally getting something she’s wanted for so long.

Instead, she hears a car horn blaring on her left and turns, aggravated, to see the goofy mug of none other than Stiles Stilinski trying to get her attention. Seriously, he has to be the most oblivious person on the entire planet - or just insanely intent on clam-jamming her. To make matters even more awful, Lydia can just make out the profile of Scott fucking McCall trying to hide himself in the passenger seat.

Of course, she would get clam-jammed by the two most infuriating boys in her life. She hadn’t seen or heard from either of them since the night of Jackson’s transformation, so she wasn’t really sure why the universe hated her enough that it would make them cross paths at this very moment. In her passenger seat, Allison was starting to freak out; that’s when Lydia remembered that her and Scott hadn’t exactly left on the best of terms. Right now, Allison was imploring her to “just go!” and Lydia is fighting the urge to only because she doesn’t want the idiots next to them to ruin their evening any more than the already have.

Finally, when it looks like Stiles is leaning over and actually trying to engage with them, Lydia decides to floor the accelerator to get away. Ignoring them is one thing, especially if they’re willing to be equally oblivious, but she’s absolutely not in the mood to actually talk to them. Beside her, Allison sighs in relief before debating out loud whether or not they should go back. Which, no, Lydia is not in favor of at the moment.

As far as she’s concerned, Scott McCall has exhausted his chances; and, according to what Allison’s told her, if Gerard had been telling the truth, Scott actually had the gall to consider Allison as some prize that could be won as long as long as the gullible little wolf went along with the sadistic geriatric’s evil plot. As if it were the 1600’s or something. Not to mention the fact that they’re going to be late already and she’s not about to let the Captains of No Homo behind her make their night any worse.

She’s flexing her fingers on the steering wheel and angrily checking the rearview mirror when the deer hits them.

Her first instinct when they rush out of the car is to run towards Allison, but Scott’s already beaten her there and has Allison pulled into a tight hug. Lydia seethes. Stiles is standing awkwardly near her, as if he’s not sure whether he should be trying to comfort her or not - or rather, he’s probably aware that he definitely shouldn’t. The state of her car isn’t even that big of a deal because all she can focus on is Scott running his hands up and down Allison’s arms while repeatedly asking if she’s okay.

Lydia snarls, “Well I’m not okay!”

If they assume her outburst is related to the buck currently wedged into her windshield rather than their mere presence, then that’s fine. Whatever it takes to get Scott away from Allison. And yeah, maybe Lydia is acting a little selfish right now, but she feels like she’s spent an awfully long time not being selfish, and shrinking back and hiding behind her beaming smile and letting everyone else impose their own opinions on who they thought she was, and she thinks she deserve to act out a bit for once.

Her outcry works to an extent, Scott quits paying so much attention to Allison and instead focuses on the wounded animal. Lydia watches wide-eyed while he runs his hand along the deer’s flank and tells them that the deer was running because it was “scared”. Which is sad and a little bit creepy that he can do that. Despite the sad state of the deer, Lydia’s mind is still occupied with how annoyed she is that their evening is basically ruined. Not just because of the deer either; she can practically see the cartoon hearts coming from Scott whenever he looks in Allison’s direction. She’d gag if she could be certain that she wasn’t doing the exact same thing.

Instead, she pulls her phone out and announces, “I guess I should call AAA,” She huffs and rolls her eyes, “Then let Danny know that we’re probably not going to make it.”

She regrets the words as soon as they’re out of her mouth and freezes instantly, afraid to look in Allison’s direction. Carefully, she turns her head to gauge the brunette’s reaction and sees her with her head cocked to the side in confusion. Allison’s a smart lady though, obvious, and Lydia turns her attention back to her phone before the confusion can be replaced by realization. In the background, she thinks she hears Stiles mentioning that he’s going back to the Jeep to call his dad. Which, yeah, she should have thought of that. But whatever, within the span of a few minutes, she’s arranged to have her poor car towed to a garage that’s owned by a guy who happens to be friends with her father, sometimes he comes in handy, and she can let Sheriff Stilinski figure out what to do about the deer. That should be considered part of his job.

The boys are helpful enough to tug the dying deer out of her windshield, which she definitely appreciates, but after they’ve moved it to the side of the road (well, mostly Scott, since he has, you know, werewolf strength and everything) the two of them just stand awkwardly near her car like they’re not sure what their next step is. Lydia, who once again appreciates their help, is ready for them to leave, but isn’t sure how to convey that without sounding mean.

“You guys don’t have to stick around you know,” Allison pipes up, and Lydia snaps her head around to where she’s standing, hugging her elbows.

Scott scuffs his shoe against the pavement, “We don’t mind...”

“Yeah,” Stiles adds, unnecessarily, “It’s dark out and stuff. We can at least stay until my dad shows up.”

Allison does her cocky smile - which Lydia loves beyond all reason - and lifts an eyebrow, “I think we’ll be fine, guys. We can just hang out in the back seat, where there’s not any glass, and lock the doors,” She nods, “We’ll be fine.”

Scott’s brow drops, “Allis-”

“We’ll be fine, Scott.”

Her glare doesn’t look particularly angry, but her jaw is set and her intent is clear; Lydia can’t help the slightest hint of smugness as the two boys finally climb back into the Jeep and drive away. Allison rolls her eyes and lets out a strained laugh before dropping into the backseat of Lydia’s car. Without much else to do, Lydia follows suit. She watches as Allison lets out a deep sigh and leans her head back against the headrest, exposing the creamy skin of her impossibly long neck. Lydia tries not to stare.

“Ugh, sorry about that,” Allison flicks her eyes over, “That was ridiculously awkward.”

“No! It was...it wasn’t that bad.”

“Sorry, it’s just...I haven’t talked to him since I left and...it was kinda weird seeing him.”

Lydia cocks her head, “Wait, you didn’t talk to him this entire summer?”

Allison laughs a little, “No! I didn’t really talk to anyone actually, except you.”

“Really?” Lydia furrows her eyebrows and lets a small smile peek out.

“Yeah,” Allison’s dimples are showing and it’s almost too much, “I don’t think I even spoke to my dad as much as I talked to you.”

Not for the first time recently, Lydia feels a bit taken aback. Only this time, it’s not because of some supernatural creature, it’s because someone wonderful is sliding across the backseat to get closer to her. There’s little more she can do than hold her breathe while her mind wraps around the fondness in Allison’s expression. There’s something else there, but it’s been too long since someone sincerely looked at Lydia that way and she’s having a hard time accepting it.

Allison reaches over and lays her hand over Lydia’s, “So...umm...about earlier, before you know the whole....guys showing up...”

Lydia smirks, “And the deer.”

“Hah! Yeah. Of course, the deer,” She lifts an eyebrow and shakes her head, “Anyways, before all that. I don’t know if I’m misreading this but,” She clenches Lydia’s hand and moves forward again, just like before.

Lydia leans towards her, again, eyes wide, relishing in the slight pain of Allison leaning on her as their distance closes. She watches Allison’s eyes close slightly as their lips finally meet and her own soon follow. It’s pure bliss, far better than Lydia could have ever imagined. Allison presses gently against her, applying just the perfect amount of pressure as their lips slide together.

In stories, protagonists often speak about not being able to breathe in intimate moments such as these and Lydia never really understood why, until now. Because Allison’s delicate fingers are tracing their way up her jawline and dragging through her hair, making Lydia instinctively push forward and deepen their kiss. Lydia lets out a sweet moan and Allison takes that as incentive to nudge at her lips with her tongue until Lydia grants her access.

She’s about to tug Allison backwards when she hears the distant sound of a siren coming towards him. When she pulls away, blue and red flashing lights are flickering over Allison’s face, causing Lydia to sigh in frustration. Once again, a Stilinski has perfect timing. It almost makes it okay when she notices how red and glistening Allison’s mouth is.

Allison laughs and smiles as the cruiser comes closer to them, “Looks like the cavalry is here to save us.”

“Yeah...I guess so.” Lydia moves to take her hand back but Allison only increases her grip.

“So...this was a double date with Danny and his new guy, wasn’t it?”

Lydia gnaws on her bottom lip, “Yeah, it actually was supposed to be.”

“Because you didn’t know how I felt and you wanted an escape plan if need be?”

“Yeah...” Lydia scrunches her nose in embarrassment.

Allison tugs her flush against her until Lydia’s face is pressed against her chest and Allison can stroke her nails through her hair again, “My God, Lydia, sometimes you can be so stupid.”

Lydia is too content to correct her.

**Author's Note:**

> And here's the obligatory [come be friends with me on tumblr!](http://somnambulipstick.tumblr.com) because I love all of you and I want to interact with all of you


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